


ctrl + z (things come undone)

by akaiiko, Kestrel_sama



Series: Club Mercy [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bratting as an Art Form, D/s, F/F, Polyamory, Relationship Negotiation, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-10-31 20:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10906818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaiiko/pseuds/akaiiko, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrel_sama/pseuds/Kestrel_sama
Summary: Sombra has three hard and fast rules for survival. One, always have an escape plan. Two, leave before you get left. Three, don't look back. Sombra's rules have never failed her. But then, she never had to account for Angela Ziegler and Fareeha Amari before.





	1. A Series of Bets

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion fic to Untouchable | Untameable which goes back in time to the inception of the magical poly trio that is Sombra/Fareeha/Angela. Sombra is primarily written by Akaiiko, Fareeha and Angela are primarily written by Kestrel_sama.

Like too many things in Sombra’s life, it started on a bet. Or. Well. A _series_ of bets that compounded on one another. Trying to pinpoint an exact moment turned out to be like trying to pinpoint the exact part of the broken code she’d inherited for the campus website. It wasn’t one thing, it was many, and anyway all of that was beside the point.

Bet #1: The whole group of them would go to Mercy, the local BDSM club that everyone knew about but didn’t really talk about, for Halloween. Whoever tried to chicken out first would buy drinks. (Status: Complete. Loser: Mei, who’d tried to claim she had lab duty that night.)

Bet #1.5: Whoever got propositioned for kinky sex first got their whole tab covered. (Status: Complete. Winner: Amelie, who’d managed to snag not one but _four_ propositions between walking in the door and being seated at one of the tables in the VIP section.)

Bet #2: Slutty costumes. Just. Slutty costumes. See above chickening out for penalties. (Status: Dubious. Amelie’s plunging neckline was considered scandalous but not all that different from her usual garb and no one was willing to argue with Satya about the height of the slit in her dress. Silently agreed that everyone had come “slutty enough.”)

Bet #3: Get them on the VIP list, somehow, so they could see the _really_ posh part of Mercy. Winner got their entire tab covered. (Status: Complete. Winner: Sombra, who’d managed to hack the databases the night before and change a few things around so that their little group now consisted of _Very_ Important Persons.)

Bet #4: Find someone to spend the night with, kinky or otherwise, who defined gorgeous. Winner got bragging rights and first round free the next time they went out. (Status: In Progress. Everyone knew that Amelie would win because she was Amelie Lacroix, but Mei was just drunk enough to put forth some competition.)

So they were on Bet #4. They were all about a few rounds in. Enough to be tipsy but not so much as to be actually drunk. Amelie’d begun holding court with a half dozen good looking subs who all looked like they were dying for the chance to kiss her dainty stiletto heels. Mei’d managed to start up a halfway decent flirtation with the massive female bouncer who guarded the VIP section. And Satya’d just downed her fifth shot.

“You know, I think she might be able to actually bench press Mei,” Sombra said. Normally this would gain nothing from Satya. Five shots in, Satya managed a choked giggle. That was rare enough for Sombra to turn her head and eye the other woman with interest.

Dark cheeks had flushed with color as Satya waved her perfectly manicured prosthetic hand. “One handed,” Satya added.

Sombra turned back to the bouncer and considered. Mei had moved from simply touching the other woman’s biceps to attempting to actually fit her hands around one of said biceps. Notably, she was failing. “You may be right, _chica_.” Part of her hoped so. Amelie always won these bets and it was time someone showed her up. Mei’s new boo bench pressing her one handed would clinch the competition far better than anything one of those barely clad subs could come up with. “Amelie could lose for once.”

“Why are you not flirting?” That’d be Satya again, alcohol giving her words a whimsical lilt. “You could likely pull someone appropriate.” Only Satya could make finding a one night stand sound so posh.

“Nah,” Sombra said. Discomfort settled along her spine as she tapped her nails against the sweating side of her glass. “Why aren’t _you_ flirting?”

Thing was, Sombra didn’t expect an answer. Certain things were simply understood. Amelie was a stone cold bitch. Mei was an enthusiastic eccentric. And Satya was a perfectionist. None of them could be with a person longer than a night or maybe two. They’d all drawn together because they couldn’t really _function_ around normal people. Why bother talking about the obvious? Maybe that was why she missed Satya’s uncharacteristically tentative, “I…”

Or maybe it was because around the time Satya started talking two women emerged from the elevator that Mei’s bouncer stood guard over. And Sombra’s mind, ever sharp, rapidly categorized and filed the new information coming her way.

They were both strikingly beautiful. One was Amazonian in proportion, with golden skin and tousled hair; the other was decidedly angelic, with slender limbs and blue eyes. They passed by the bouncer with only a respectful nod on the bouncer’s part and an acknowledging head tilt on the blonde’s. Different from how even the regulars had been received, which set them apart, even though they were clearly also regulars. And, Sombra added as she took in the deference from the staff, _actual_ Very Important Persons. Investors?

Sombra almost hated that she couldn’t drag her gaze away. They were attractive. They presented a puzzle. But they were also together. Together and...polished. Yes, that was the word for it. The blonde, in particular, had the look of a woman whose champagne always had gold dust in it. They might work for a living but they probably spent more in one night on the town than Sombra earned in a month.

(If Sombra were the kind to believe in “leagues”, she’d say they were out of hers, but she didn’t, so it went unsaid.)

“—listening to me?” Right, Satya. Even the alcohol couldn’t keep her in a good mood for long. A warm hand landed on Sombra’s bare shoulder and tugged. It took more self control than Sombra wanted to admit to simply shrug the hand off instead of smacking it away. “You asked why I was not flirting. I will tell you, it’s because—”

“No one’s good enough for you, yeah, I got it, _chica_ ,” Sombra said. “We all got it.” She leant forward in her own chair, as much to keep Satya from touching her again as to get a better look at the pair of women. Fingernails tapped nervously against her thighs as her eyes tracked their movements. Controlled, efficient, assured. Dommes. They had to be. Plenty of confident subs in this club but they didn’t _own_ the space around them this way.

The Amazon tipped her beer back and swallowed, throat moving and skin gleaming gold under the bar lights, bared bicep flexing just enough to hint at the solid muscle beneath. At her side, the blonde had begun to sip at some mixed drink that Sombra’d wager was a lot stronger than most would expect from someone so delicate looking. Then she said something and her mouth curled smugly and the Amazon laughed as she put down her beer and they were symmetrical in their opposition in a way that made Sombra finally understand Satya’s drunken rambles about golden ratios.

Enough. Sombra forced herself to look away and found herself eyeing her empty glass. “I need another drink,” she said. Getting to her feet—tricky given her platform heels and the three margaritas she’d already downed—she began to move toward the bar.

“Sombra!”

“I’ll get you another shot, _chica_ ,” Sombra called. One of her hands waved over her shoulder in a dismissive gesture. As she moved toward the bar she caught sight of Amelie. The court had somehow _grown_. And...yep, yep, there was one of the subs pressed a reverent kiss to one delicate purple stiletto heel.

With a muted groan, Sombra pressed against the polished wooden bar and raised a hand to catch the bartender’s attention. “Another margarita, _por favor_ ,” she called as soon as they’d made eye contact. Having received a brief nod, she settled more deliberately against the bar to wait. Technically she might’ve returned to her seat. The VIP section had wait staff. One of the many perks. But she didn’t want to deal with drunk Satya or the direct line of sight her seat gave to…

To the women now standing maybe three feet away from her, unobscured now that a Dom and his sub had moved away from the bar, still looking utterly perfect. Sombra found herself staring once more. Up close, they were magnified. The blonde had seated herself on a plush stool while the Amazon continued to stand. Their interplay was familiar, comfortable. It seemed like the world rotated around the axis they created.

In a blinding instant, Sombra’s mind took her to the small space between them. Kneeling on the floor, head pressed to the blonde’s bared thigh, the Amazon’s hand reaching down to nudge against the shaved portion of her head. Enclosed between them. Safe. Made perfect...

The Amazon lifted her beer and it got halfway to her lips before pausing. Because she'd had noticed Sombra staring. Horror spread slowly through Sombra’s veins as the beer bottle descended back to the bar. As the Amazon leaned forward to whisper something in the blonde’s ear. As the blonde turned just enough to look over her shoulder. As cool disinterest turned into something almost predatory.

Biting back her disbelief, Sombra moved her gaze back to the Amazon. Not predatory but assessing. Dark eyes moved between the women quickly even as her mind tried to calculate the situation. All that came up was that they were...interested. In her. Oh, probably only for a night, and probably they’d give her some cab fare in the morning before sending her off if it even lasted that long.

Somewhere behind her, Amelie laughed. The calculated laugh that made people lose their shit and signaled that she felt she was close to winning. Mei must’ve lost the line or Amelie’d managed to pull someone spectacular. Well, that settled it.

They were still looking at her. Slowly, deliberately, Sombra straightened from her slouched position against the bar. She tossed her dark hair over one shoulder and ran her hands down the corset she’d borrowed as if to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles. Then she allowed her lips to curl in her best shit-eating-I-know-you-want-me grin and strutted over to the women. “My name’s Sombra and this is your lucky night, _jefas_.”


	2. The Stakes are Raised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha and Angela toy with their new prey.

She’d been watching them the way a hungry jackal watched a pair of lionesses feasting after a hunt. Fareeha noticed her first, caught mid-drink as violet eyes lingered longer than even casual appreciation could account for. The beauty’s dark skin paled slightly once she realized she’d been caught staring. Fareeha’s lips quirking into a faint smirk as she leaned down to murmur in Angela’s ear, lips nearly brushing the shell of it. 

“We have an admirer, _habibti_. At your three, purple and black. She’s cute. Looks like trouble.” Fareeha kept her voice low, an appreciative purr emphasizing the last word. Angela’s head turned slightly to regard the woman in question, and her body went still. Fareeha’s grin widened as she saw the look of disinterest morph into something she was all too familiar with. 

She’d been on the receiving end of that look before. 

Fareeha’s gaze slid back to their admirer, curious to see what she would make of that particular look on Angie’s face. The violet-eyed gaze darted between the two of them, and after a moment she seemed to come to a decision, straightening up and trailing perfectly manicured hands over her corset. Fareeha’s attention was drawn to the narrow cut of her waist and the way hips flared out and perfectly filled the tiny vinyl shorts that could have been spray-painted on for all she knew. 

The strut towards them was nothing either of them hadn’t seen before. Peacocking, Fareeha called it. Flat out cocky, Angela always contested. Fareeha didn’t have to look at her girlfriend to know that Angela was thinking it too. The vulpine grin that spread over purple-painted lips only reaffirmed Fareeha’s initial impression that she was going to be Trouble. 

_“My name’s Sombra and this is your lucky night, jefas.”_

Fareeha couldn’t fully stifle the amused snort that escaped her, a loose fist rising to conceal the grin that split her lips. Angela seemed to maintain her composure far better, giving the woman - Sombra - a lazy, assessing look from head to toe and back up again. “That remains to be seen,” the blonde purred, pinning Sombra in place with her icy gaze, cupid’s bow lips curled into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Angela gestured to the barstool next to her with a curl of wrist and flick of a perfectly manicured index finger. Long legs uncrossed and re-crossed, the slit in her skirt baring a milky pale thigh, shapely calf, and dainty feet adorned with strappy golden heels. Angela was beautiful in any situation, but Fareeha thought she was most striking when she was toying with some pretty thing. 

Their relationship wasn’t perhaps the most conventional by any means, but through communication and a shared love of bratty little subs, they were able to maintain a healthy partnership while still satisfying their more dominant urges. “This is Fareeha,” Angela said after a moment, drifting a finger in her direction, “And I’m Angela. So tell us, Sombra, what makes you so different, hm?” 

Fareeha leaned up against the bar at Angela’s side, eyeing the cocky smirk that spread along purple-painted lips. Most people quailed under Angela’s questioning, so when Sombra flashed a sharp grin at them, her eyebrows lifted in intrigue. “I’d rather show you than tell you. I could go on about why you two should take me to one of those fancy back rooms. But that would be a lot less fun than actually doing it, huh, _jefa_?”

Snorting a laugh, Fareeha placed her empty beer bottle onto the bar, sliding it away from the edge. The look she raked over Sombra was assessing and beyond appreciative. “You know Ang, she’s not wrong. The real question is,” she turned her attention to Sombra, a wolfish sort of gleam in her eyes, “What do you think is gonna happen when we get in there?” It didn’t escape Fareeha’s notice when the girl’s cocky facade flickered for just a moment. 

Sombra’s lips parted, hesitation stealing her voice for a split second. “I don’t think that’s up to me to decide, is it?” There was a pause before inebriation-fueled bravery finished that particular thought, “But hopefully it ends with one of you sitting on my face before the night is out.” Sombra grinned again, that flash of uncertainty gone so quickly it might have been imagined if Fareeha didn’t know better.

Angela’s glass met a coaster as she set it down gently, wiping her fingertips on a napkin before reaching out abruptly and catching Sombra’s narrow chin between thumb and forefinger, drawing her in close as she leaned forward. “I don’t know that you can behave yourself long enough to earn that,” she said consideringly, doubt clear in the lilting tones of her voice. 

In a motion that was pure impulse, Sombra closed the distance between herself and Angela, catching the corner of her mouth in a quick kiss, pulling back with a smirk. “Probably not, but it’ll be fun finding out, yeah?”

If she hadn’t already decided that a night with the vixen was a fantastic idea, that alone would have convinced her. “You know, I’m starting to get the feeling that she’d like being under your heels, habibti.” Fareeha murmured into Angela’s ear, pinning Sombra with a knowing grin. If the way Sombra shifted in her seat at the notion was any indication, she was right too. 

Angela owning the club meant that certain things came easier. Their tab at the bar didn’t require closing out, and the room-check desk didn’t ask for a credit card or identification - they all knew who signed the checks - and a key was handed over to Angela while Fareeha linked her arm through one of Sombra’s, fingertips tracing the tender insides of her wrist with deliberate focus. 

“If you have any limits, _yah susah_ , now is the time to tell us. For us, we don’t play with excrement, and neither of us find the appeal in infantilism.” Fareeha murmured, leaning down just enough that her lips brushed the top of Sombra’s ear. “You...I think you’d look good on your knees, tied up and gagged.” Her voice went husky, a resultant shudder running through Sombra’s lithe frame. 

“That sounds…” Sombra took a shaky breath, arm clutching a fraction tighter to Fareeha’s sinewy forearm. “I think we could do that...just uh...don’t leave any permanent marks, yeah? Everything else sounds...sounds good.” 

Angela brushed past them, a hint of her perfume drifting through the air as she moved to unlock the door, light flashing green just before she pushed it open. “Are you both quite finished?” the blonde asked sharply, giving Fareeha and then Sombra an expectant look.

“Patience, _habibti_ ,” Fareeha murmured, urging Sombra into the room before her, pausing to nuzzle along Angela’s cheek affectionately. “We’ve all the time in the world to get to know each other.” 

Fareeha couldn’t help the playful arch of a brow as Angela’s expression went mulish. “I don’t like having my time wasted.” Tcha, she was going to be like that tonight, then.

“It won’t be. Go have a drink.” 

Angela gave Fareeha another measuring look, the expression directed at Sombra after a moment before she made her way over to the mini-bar and poured herself a glass of wine. Knowing that her lover could be contrary at the best of times, Fareeha, moved up behind Sombra, arms wrapping around her middle and fingertips tracing along the eyelets of her corset. “Don’t mind her. She’s under a lot of stress...but I think you can help me with that, hm?” 

She felt Sombra swallow beneath the faint brush of her lips before the woman cocked her hip, arrogance back in full force. “You act like I’m just gonna be good all on my own,” Sombra taunted lightly, manicured nails raking over the backs of Fareeha’s hands in a sharp tingle. Fareeha’s grin grew sharp, gaze turned towards where Ang was watching them with thinly-veiled interest.

“No...I think you need a little...persuasion,” she growled, one hand trailing up from Sombra’s waist, fingertips dancing along her sternum, between her breasts to linger along her collarbone, tracing the prominence of bone and the lines of tendon along her throat. 

Slowly, dark, strong fingers curled around the column of Sombra’s throat, calloused fingertips pushing against her pulse-point lightly. She felt the woman’s pulse jump beneath her fingers, and tightened her grip just enough to be slightly uncomfortable. “We can do this the hard way, or the easy way, _yah susah_. Which will it be?” Teeth nipped down along the lobe of Sombra’s ear, a faint squirm Fareeha’s reward for her actions. 

“Easy’s not fun,” Sombra panted, the tight curves of her ass rolling back against Fareeha’s thighs in a tantalizing manner. This time Fareeha’s sharp grin was mirrored by Angela’s, dark and light wholly focused on their little slip of dusk caught between them. 

“Good.”

A knee bumped into the back of Sombra’s leg, dropping the girl to her knees as her support was taken out from underneath her. Fareeha’s hand held steady over her throat, holding her in place while Angela sauntered over to the trunk of supplies, lifting the lid and digging through the trays before she found what she wanted. Bright pink leather straps were tossed one at a time Fareeha’s way, the first of the set finding their way around Sombra’s biceps and pulling them close behind her back. The position thrust her breasts out and made her spine curve deliciously as Fareeha buckled them. 

The second set supported her elbows, and the third bound her wrists together. Fortunate for them all that her corset could be removed at a later time. The shaved side of Sombra’s head was gifted with a few tender kisses once the straps were buckled in place. Angela was sitting on the edge of the bed with her glass of wine, watching like some kind of predatory bird as Fareeha finished trussing up their prey. 

“I believe you said something about a gag? We can’t have her getting too full of herself, you know,” Angela mused idly, swirling the dark red liquid in her glass as though it were merely a passing thought.

Fareeha laughed lowly, both hands coming to rest on the curve of Sombra’s shapely hips. “So I did. Would you care to do the honors?” Fareeha was careful not to touch anywhere that Sombra likely wanted to be touched, restraining herself to the dip of her waist and the swell of her hips, fingertips digging into the vinyl of her corset.

_“Ay chingados_ , can we stop talking about things and actually do things?” Sombra tensed against the leather buckles and straps impatiently.

Angela smirked, legs spreading wide in invitation and the drape of her dress concealing the prize at the apex of her thighs. “This?” She cooed sweetly. “Oh, you haven’t done a thing to earn this.”

Sombra groaned, leaning forward slightly, and Fareeha amused herself by unlacing the strings at the back of Sombra’s corset. “Be a good pet, _yah susah_ , and you’ll get what you want,” she promised.

It would have been easier to just unhook the eyelets on the front of her corset, but Fareeha wanted to unwrap her new toy, loosing the laces at the back and pulling them free. Inch after inch bared dark skin, pretty imprints of the laces and boning making pale marks on unsullied flesh. Trailing a finger down the curve of her spine, Fareeha released the last few laces from their bindings, snagging the corset and tossing it aside. 

“Is she to your approval, _habibti_?” Fareeha murmured, palms caressing along the bumps of Sombra’s ribcage, stroking upwards until her breasts were cupped fully within her hands, thumbs tripping over nipples roughly.

Angela took another sip of her wine, blue eyes raking over Sombra like she were a new toy. “I suppose,” Angela said after a moment, cupid’s-bow lips curving into a faint smile. “She’ll do.” 

With a sincere amount of reluctance, Fareeha moved away from Sombra, rummaging through the trunk before she found what she was searching for. Holding it up, she presented a rubber gag, a rather girthy dildo sprouting from the outer part of the mask. With an ominous grin, she made her way back to Sombra’s side, intent on gagging their new brat.


End file.
